it, um, randomizes them

So I'm housesitting for the next week in a house in Lafayette. The owner of the house is a man named Stuart, who is almost definitely suffering from a mild case of obsessive-compulsive disorder. The instructions for the house took nearly an hour, even though all I have to do is feed the dog and cat twice a day, and fill the pool if the water level declines. Stuart took the time to explain every single thing possible, from the thermostat ("To turn the fan on, move the switch to 'On'") to the proper way to dish out cat food ("slightly more than a heaping teaspoon"). Stuart is the type of guy who can not simply explain something, but must also demonstrate it, so I had to endure him locking and unlocking several doors, as well as turning half the lights in the house on and off.

The kicker came when we got to the stereo. Now, I may not be incredibly "tech savvy," or own a "home entertainment system," but I am also not suffering from "Down Syndrome." Stuart talked about the CD player for nearly ten minutes. "Now, this is a CD changer. You can have multiple CDs in here at once. And, on the display, you can see which one is playing because of the circle around the number. So, if the CD in Tray #1 is playing, there's a circle around the 1. (as this talk continues, Stuart is removing CDs, returning them to their cases, and filing them in alphabetical order) One tricky thing, though, Sean, is the 'Shuffle' button. It, um, randomizes them, so you'll hear tracks from many different CDs, that is, if there are multiple CDs in there, in the tray (opens tray again, in case I'd forgotten in the past twenty seconds). And if you have questions, just give us a call."

Why would I subject myself to such a bizarre individual? Well, money, of course, but Stuart also has a phenomenal collection of comics. I used to be a big comic book fan in my youth, until it became necessary to buy five or six different X-Men titles just to follow the convoluted plots. I didn't have the kind of disposable income necessary to keep up, nor did I have the patience. At Stuart's house, however, I can read a year's worth of old Daredevil comics in an hour, for free. Last night, I read the whole Death-of-Superman-Just-Kidding-He's-
Alive-After-All-Suckers saga. And I am rapidly discovering the genius of Frank Miller. It's great to be able to nerd away the hours in air-conditioned comfort. It'd be perfect, if only Stuart had demonstrated how to use the microwave...